Nothing to Live For
by Destiel0205
Summary: <html><head></head>Based off of a Tumblr post. When Dean is about to do something drastic, who comes to his rescue? And will they be able to help? Destiel one-shot. Sorry if it feels a bit forced. Please read, review, and enjoy! :)</html>


**Hey people! As I mentioned in the author's note of my most recent merthur fic, Emerald, I'm finally living up to my username! *confetti rains from the sky* Anyway, yeah, I haven't written any destiel before this because I tend to write them very OOC, so I apologize if I did that at any time in this fic. I really did try :). This is set after season two, but in an alternate version where the crossroad demons didn't let Dean sell his soul. It was based on a tumblr post I saw a while ago. **

** post/98714832767/source-part-1-part-2-in-australia-call **

**There it is! It isn't necessary to read this to understand the fic, btw.**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

><p>A lone figure stood on the edge of the bridge. The river flowed below him, beckoning him into its void.<p>

Dean Winchester was scared. He had no one to run to, no shoulder to cry on. John was dead, Mary had been dead for a long time, and now Sam was gone as well. Without his little brother left to live for, Dean just didn't see the point.

That's why, on a cold October night, he was standing on the edge of oblivion. Part of him was begging him to step away, to go back to the hotel and drink some beer. But a stronger, more forceful part was screaming at him, saying that he's worthless, that no one is left to love him. It was saying that no matter how hard he tried to save people, all he ever did was harm.

Dean wiped away a tear, dangling his left foot over the edge. Now all he had to do was move the right one, and it would all be over. There'd be no more pain, and all the people he'd wronged over the years could get their revenge. Yes, that sounded nice. He closed his eyes, about to take the step.

"Are you planning to jump?" A deep voice sounded from behind him, and Dean quickly turned his head to face the man who'd interrupted him.

"Huh? Who are you? Leave me alone!" Dean shouted before he had a chance to look at the man. He was wearing a tan trench coat with a suit and tie under it. Dean didn't notice anything else. That was weird enough, and his mind was elsewhere.

As the man started to take a step toward him, Dean shouted, "If you get closer, I will jump right now!"

The man's expression didn't change, although he did stop moving. He said, "Okay. Please calm down." Dean rolled his eyes and faced the other way, but the man wouldn't give up. "What has caused you to be in this emotional state?" he asked.

Dean wanted to roll his eyes again at the man's choice of words. Why so complicated? He responded, "What do you care?"

"I do not know," the man replied, "I suppose I am curious as to why you would take this course of action."

Again with the big words and illustrious phrasing. Dean sighed, and said, "There's no point in telling you."

"You may attempt. I am good at listening," the man prompted.

Dean almost wanted to laugh at that second sentence. Why didn't he just say that he's a good listener? Despite this, or maybe because of it, Dean decided that he might as well tell the man. After all, he won't leave until he gets an answer, and once he's gone, Dean can make up for his sins. He turned around and sat on the edge of the bridge, saying, "It sounds stupid, but I hate my life. Everything as pretty much gone as bad as it possibly could have. Life just isn't worth living anymore."

"What happened?" the man asked, and for once, he actually sounded involved, like he really wanted to know. Still, Dean doubted it.

"Lots of stuff. It's hard to explain, but a lot of people are dead because of me. Everywhere I go, I leave a path of destruction in my wake. Everyone is dead, including my entire family." With that last word, Dean felt a tear drip down his cheek. He felt embarrassed and ashamed, because he shouldn't be allowed to cry. He isn't worth enough.

"About your family... that's horrible. My... my family isn't too great either. I haven't seen my father in... many years. My siblings and I have a very strained and distant relationship," the man admitted. When Dean looked back at him, he actually seemed thoughtful, and even a bit upset. Dean hadn't thought it was possible for this guy to have emotions. "Your family... were they murdered?"

Dean thought it was a strange question, but he answered anyway. "Kinda." He didn't know how to tell this guy that his mom and dad were killed by a demon, and his brother was stabbed by a guy because of the same demon.

However, the guy wouldn't let up. "I could smite the murderer."

"Dude, I said 'kinda'." Dean debated telling him, but decided against it. "Besides, what would you even do? Sue them to death?"

"If you are referring to my clothing, it was not my choice. It is what my... family... is required to wear," the man stated. Dean thought that his pause before and after saying 'family' was strange, but then again, so was everything about this guy.

"O...kay. Why do you care anyway?"

"You seem like a decent human, and I do not believe that you should end your life."

"Why not?" Dean asked, knowing he was pushing it. He wanted to make the man mad, mad enough that he'd go away and let Dean finish what he'd set out to do.

"Because then I'd have to reveal that I am an angel and fly down to save you," the man answered with a completely straight face. He moved to rest his forearms on the edge of the bridge where Dean was sitting.

Dean was starting to worry about this guy's mental health. He laughed, mostly forced, and replied, "Seriously? You can _fly?_"

Again, the man didn't seem to notice the sarcasm in Dean's voice, and answered, "Yes, of course. Angels can all fly; I thought this was common knowledge around humans."

Dean was seriously considering taking this guy to a mental institute. As if the angel stuff wasn't bad enough, now he was talking about humans as if he wasn't one. Which, maybe he wasn't! Dean, John, and... Sam... had run into a lot of things over the years, including some mentally unstable things. They'd never seen any angels, though, and Dean was certain they didn't exist. However, he didn't want to say this to the guy. With a smile on his face, Dean said, "Well, I didn't know that, but I'll take your secret to the grave." He looked down at the water below him and thought of Sam, his smile dissipating as the river rushed. "Which looks like it might be pretty soon."

"Don't say that," the man said in a demanding voice. However, unlike John Winchester, this man still sounded kind and caring in that strange way. It got Dean thinking about his dad. He used to be nice to Dean, back before the fire, but Dean barely remembered that. Blurry images flashed in his mind, and he could feel the emotions that his much younger self had felt. An overwhelming feeling of being loved filled his heart, and he realized he hadn't felt that since.

Lost in deep thought, Dean had let his conversation with the man go into an awkward silence. Thankfully, the stranger spoke up. "Have you ever killed something?"

Dean thought that was a _very _strange question and was about to tell this guy the same lie he told everyone else who asked. As he thought about it, he realized something: If he's about to kill himself, he might as well tell _someone _about everything he's done! After all, it's a pretty impressive story so far. Before his sense could kick in, Dean began, "Yeah, I've killed lots of things. You see, my dad raised me and my brother to be hunters, after my mom was killed by a demon. Recently, my brother and I were trying to find our dad after he disappeared for a while. A bunch of stuff involving demons and other monsters happened, and then my brother was kidnapped by this one demon called Azazel. He organized this boot camp thing to find a demon leader, and my brother was-" Dean cut off, feeling a tear roll down his cheek. It was too soon to be talking about it, and he couldn't keep himself together long enough. The hunter took a deep breath, collecting himself, and continued, "My brother was stabbed in the stomach. He died in my arms. I tried everything to save him, even selling my soul, but the crossroad demons wouldn't let me! They turned me away, and I was left with nothing! Nothing!" Dean's voice was rough with sobs as he screamed at the man. "Which brings me here. I had nothing left to live for. Nothing left that gave me any reason to keep going. I was left with nothing, so I decided to become nothing. Then _you _had to come along and ruin it!" He ended staring straight at the man, rage boiling in his chest.

The man only stared at him, unblinking. He didn't seem shocked at all, like Dean would have expected. Instead, he simply nodded. He nodded like he understood everything Dean just said, which would make him a hunter! Or a demon or monster. Dean had no way of knowing.

"I know what you're thinking. You think I'm a demon. Possibly a monster. I can assure you that I am none of those. However, I do know about you, Dean Winchester." Dean drew in a sharp breath, waiting to hear more. "I had my suspicions, but after that story, who else could you be? I am sorry to hear about your brother, I was not aware of that development. I am glad I spotted you. You should not take your own life. After all, the world needs a Winchester, and you are the only one left. I was not lying earlier. I am able to fly. Do you have any guesses as to what I am?" Dean shook his head, and the man continued, "I am an angel of the lord. My name..." He hesitated, as if he wasn't sure that he should tell Dean. "My name is Castiel. I am only a common soldier, but I have been told of my future importance. According to legend, I am to free you from Hell. I do not see how that will happen now, as you were supposed to be sent there after selling your soul to save your brother. You did not do this, so perhaps there is no need for my fate. Perhaps I may travel on my own path now. I have always been interested in humans. Would you like to show me around Earth, Dean Winchester?"

Dean was in shocked silence. There was too much information to comprehend at once, and he could feel a headache coming on. All he could muster was, "What, right now?"

Castiel replied, "Yes, you may to this 'becoming nothing' thing another time."

Dean thought for a moment. He'd come out here with the intent of dying, and this outcome was very different from what he'd expected. He couldn't say he minded, though. Maybe a part of him wanted to live this whole time; it just needed someone to inspire it. He confidently answered, "Okay."

"Right then. Where would you like to start?" Castiel asked.

"You mean where do I want to show you?" The angel nodded. "I don't know... How about Lawrence, Kansas?"

"Ah, yes, the birthplace of the Winchesters. I'd be happy to visit. Hold still a minute."

Dean obliged, although he was a bit confused. That confusion quickly dissipated as he blinked and opened his eyes in the front yard of his old home. "Holy..." He whispered under his breath. Dean looked to his left at the angel standing by his side, and felt a deep sense of gratification and a trace of something else there that he couldn't quite pinpoint.

As Dean looked back at his childhood house, he remembered the feeling of love that he'd felt as a very small boy. Suddenly, it stuck him: That was what he'd been feeling! It was slightly different though, less parental and more, dare he say it, romantic. Now, it had gotten to the point where Dean wasn't even surprised anymore. He'd always thought of himself as straight, but then again, he also didn't believe in angels. After all that had happened that day, it wasn't hard to accept that he might be bisexual. _Might as well try it out, _he thought. _Besides, aren't angels technically sexless? _

That thought provided him with a bit of comfort as he snaked his hand down to clasp that of the angel by his side. Castiel turned his head to face Dean, quirking his head to the side in puzzlement. Dean simply said, "I thought I'd give it a try."

Castiel smiled at squeezed Dean's hand in his own. "Shall we?" He asked, gesturing towards the house.

"One thing first. Can I call you 'Cas'?" Dean asked.

"Certainly," Castiel replied.

Dean liked the sound of that. _Dean and Cas. Cas and Dean. _Either way was good. For the first time in a long time, Dean found himself smiling. "Alright then, Cas. Let's explore the Earth."


End file.
